Sparkle
by RobotsMakeBetterLovers
Summary: All fifth year students are required to have a meeting with their Head of House in order to discuss their career and future. When Draco goes to meet with Snape, what does he say? Is Death-Eating the career for him?


The door snapped shut behind Pansy Parkinson, leaving Severus alone in the dungeon to ponder the future, which looked decidedly grim.

As the Head of Slytherin House, he was supposed to have a meeting with each fifth year Slytherin to discuss their futures and careers. So far, only one had given him any hint that she wasn't planning on joining the Dark Lord. The rest of them had told him (inadvertently or not) that they would be his faithful servants. One was planning on joining Muggle politics (he told Severus with a nasty grin); several others aspired to achieve high positions in the Ministry (to exercise the Dark Lord's control over the Ministry, no doubt). And, as he had expected, several more had given him incredulous looks (when asked about their career options) and said something alone the lines of "I'm joining the Dark Lord, of course. You're with him, aren't you?"

Severus wondered dully how many of them would be joining the Dark Lord within the next year (perhaps some had joined him already?), and he turned back to his meeting schedule. _Parkinson, Pansy: two o' clock. Malfoy, Draco: two-thirty. _Lovely. Severus had been waiting for this meeting for fifteen years.

There was a sharp knock on the door – five brisk raps – and Severus prepared himself for the worst.

"Enter."

The door opened slowly and Draco stalked in, giving Severus a look. This look said, in a dangerous tone, "I know what you're thinking."

"Sit, Draco," Severus said, waving his hand vaguely at the chair across his desk. Draco sniffed.

"May I stand, sir?" he said, his hands behind his back politely. _His palms are probably sweating, _Severus thought, a tiny smile curving his cheeks. _He knows what is coming. _

"No, Mr. Malfoy. I request that you have a seat." This time, he pointed deliberately at the chair, so that Draco could not pretend to misunderstand Severus's meaning. Draco swallowed (_he actually swallowed!_ Severus thought with a grim sort of delight) and sat in the hard wooden chair across from the professor. There was a brief silence in which Draco examined his fingernails and Severus coolly appraised the fifteen-year-old boy in front of him.

"We've known each other for a very long time, Draco." Draco looked up at him, his face slackening into the tiniest of smiles.

It was true. Severus, having been a Death Eater since the age of seventeen and a Slytherin since the age of eleven, had been friends with Lucius Malfoy long before the notion of a "Draco" was considered. Lucius was a charming man, and not even close to the mindless, lumbering, faceless crowd that comprised the majority of the Dark Lord's forces. Lucius was highly intelligent, calculating, and suave. What reasonable man faced with a lifetime of servitude would _not_ leap at the opportunity to become good friends with Lucius Malfoy?

Friendship with Lucius had been pleasant enough over the years, and it had certainly made his task of remaining "loyal" to the Dark Lord much less terrible. And Severus was fairly sure that Lucius liked him; he had, after all, been Lucius's best man when wedding Narcissa, and was asked to be Draco's godfather…

Severus had always hated children. Even as a teenager, he had looked upon the red-faced infants and shrieking mongrels with utter disdain. It was a horror enough that he had to teach hundreds of pubescent brats, with no other option… But then Narcissa was with child, and Lucius wanted Severus to play a role in the pampered life of the creature. Wouldn't the child have enough people simpering over him without having an "official" godfather? But, then again, how do you refuse to be someone's godfather? Lucius's blue-grey eyes that Draco had so tactfully inherited were positively in agony with joy at the coming of his first (and only) son. Was it possible to refuse a man gone so dewy-eyed?

And so Severus had, grudgingly, become Draco's godfather. The two met the day after his birth, and the baby was nearly as remarkable as every other helpless purple scrap Severus had ever seen. Draco was disgustingly fawned over, the ugly thing, and Severus wondered why he allowed himself to be drawn into such an affair. _Do it for Lucius_, Severus told himself. _Do it for your best friend_. He did his best at being a godfather, going to all of Draco's birthdays and stopping by periodically to play with the boy and pat him on the head.

And meanwhile Severus and the boy's parents were Death Eaters. While they pillaged and murdered and struggled for magical supremacy, a blond little boy was blissfully unaware of any problems outside the realms of toys and candy. How wonderful that would be, to be innocently unable to care about anyone but yourself… Severus had never had such a feeling, having had a childhood rocked by conflict and fear.

He found himself fascinated with Draco, fascinated by this incredible possibility that the tiny human was in the middle of an earth-shaking war and didn't know it, fascinated by the fact that the precocious organism called his godson did not know anything about his own life. He regarded the child with what he supposed to be mere curiosity and interest, up until one day when Draco was around a year and half.

Draco was crawling furiously across the luxuriously plush carpet of his nursery, chasing a perfectly-bred calico kitten and attempting to pet her the wrong way, tail to head. Severus appraised the situation before deciding that the kitten was in dire need of his assistance. He laboriously rose from the ancient family rocking chair (that, Lucius had lovingly informed him, had sat in dozens of nurseries before this one) and plucked the tiny animal from under Draco's demeaning fist. Before the baby could splutter an unintelligible, infantile complaint, Severus arranged himself on the floor with the cat in his lap.

Pulling Draco to his other knee, he explained, "Kitty doesn't like that, angel. Pet her like this…" He put his fingertips on Draco's hand and guided him in the correct way to pet a cat, while Draco gaped at their hands like they were doing something incredible and unheard-of. The calico kitten closed its too-big baby eyes and purred peacefully under their touch. Draco stared at the cat for a moment, then turned his sparkling blue eyes on Severus and smiled.

Severus gasped. Draco gazed up at him with the most completely adoring and admiring look Severus had ever seen in his life, particularly aimed at Severus himself. He felt ashamed. This child did not know him. If he had the capability to understand the things that Severus had done, the lies he had told, the lives he had ruined, Draco would now be flinging himself from his lap in disgust. But the child looked on, a clear look of sheer joy and ardent love for the man who was holding him etched perfectly across his face. Severus's black eyes bored into Draco's beautiful blues, and he smiled tenderly as he stroked the silky hair from Draco's forehead.

Professor Severus Snape, renowned for his affinity with all things dark and dreary, infamous far and wide for spreading misfortune and unhappiness, was incontestably loved by a pure baby boy.

And Professor Snape loved him back.

And now, that same baby boy with the striking blond hair and the blue eyes that had grayed slightly was sitting in front of Severus's office desk, looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. _No, Draco, you can't leave. If you won't talk to me as your godfather, you will talk to me as your Head of House. _Severus opened his mouth to speak, but Draco beat him to it.

"You know perfectly well what I'm going to end up doing for the rest of my life, don't you? Both of my parents are Death Eaters, you're a Death Eater, there really isn't anything else I can do, is there? I'm stuck…"

Severus's mind was racing. Never had Draco expressed any sort of regret to be entering a life-long servitude of evil. Severus had accepted a long time ago that Draco would grow up nursing the same intolerance and disdain for Muggles, Mudbloods, and blood-traitors as his father. Was there, maybe, still a shred of hope for him? Severus had always doubted it, but by the way he was talking, now…

"What do you want to do, Draco?" Draco stared at him, not understanding. "I mean, if you could choose any career path and life that you pleased, what would you do?" Draco looked at the desktop and shook his head quickly.

"Don't – it doesn't matter," he said, glaring at his godfather's stapler. "What I want to do has never mattered. I've already been presented to the Dark Lord like some sort of sick offering, like a piece of food that he'll play with and eat." He looked back at Severus, ager flaring now. "No one has ever considered that I don't want to risk my ass killing Mudbloods! Maybe I don't want to have anything at all to do with your bloody war, have you ever considered that?"

"Draco, not once have I told you that you absolutely must participate. My only words have been expressing an interest in your desires for the future." This was agony, keeping a cool, sarcastic demeanor, when every bit of Severus wanted to turn over the desk, grab Draco by the shoulders and scream, "Don't do it, angel! Don't let them dilute you, just run as far away as you can and don't get involved! I _can't_ lose you, angel!" Draco's expression softened, and to Severus's horror, anger turned swiftly to utter misery.

"You know what I want to do? You know what I've always wanted to do?" Draco's eyes were pointed directly at Severus, but he had the feeling that they were actually looking somewhere in the middle-ground between them.

"What do you want to do, angel?"

At the word "angel", Draco's eyes abruptly focused onto Severus's, locking him under a fiercely sorrowful stare.

"I want to be an astronaut." Silence, then –

"A _what_?"

"An astronaut, Severus. It's – it's a Muggle job. They get into these big rockets and fly to the moon, and see the stars and everything! I've always loved astronomy, you know…" Severus slammed both hands down on the table, and Draco recoiled in fear. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that! Don't say anything to Father, or Mother, or t-to _him_…"

"Draco!" Severus hissed. He had one chance to save the boy's life. That chance was now, and by the non-existent God if Draco didn't listen Severus would never be able to forgive himself. "Leave the country. Change your name. Get an education or fake everything if you have to, lie, it should be easy enough with magic! Leave all of this behind and don't let any Death Eaters, not even _me, _near you, do you understand? Go and become an astronaut, damn it. Go do it, because otherwise you'll be caught up in this blasted war and – and…" Severus trailed off. He gazed once again into the sparkling blue eyes of the one-and-a-half-year old baby who marveled at the wonders of a purring kitten.

That kitten was long gone. So were the sparkles in Draco's once-brilliantly blue eyes. _Did my eyes ever sparkle?_ Severus thought. If they did, life and time had put a stop to it. Severus lost his chance at being a decent human being, lost his chance at a glimmer of future happiness. That was a long time ago. In fact, he wasn't much older than Draco when it happened…

"…and I couldn't let that happen to you."

A minute or so later, Draco left the dungeon office, leaving Severus behind his desk with nothing but his thoughts. He scanned his list of names again. _Zabini, Blaise_ would be around any minute now, and his future was probably nearly as promising as the rest of the Slytherins craning their necks in line to be the next Death Eater to further ruin humanity. The future, for Severus, was not going to be a good one, assuming it lasted another couple of years.

But what about for Draco? He could still escape…

Severus rose from his chair and took a turn about his office. The office he had occupied for sixteen depraved, unremitting years. Longer than Draco had been alive… He glanced at his reflection in the glass door of one of his ingredients cabinets.

To his surprise, his eyes were sparkling, but for an entirely different reason.


End file.
